Happy Birthday, Ralph
by FiveMetersOfPrussia
Summary: In which Roger plans a lovely surprise for Ralph's birthday. Sort of drabble-esque


Happy Birthday, Ralph

Summary: In which Roger plans things for Ralph's birthday.

A/N: Because I am getting back into writing, and also trying to break the hiatus on my other fics.

Warnings: Fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies

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The night air was cold as Roger stepped out, shoving his hands unceremoniously into his pockets. Fall was quickly turning into winter, and that meant that he would have to break out some more blankets. Try as he might, he could never quite rid himself of the melancholy cold that seemed to plague his body temperature. Ralph didn't seem to mind, though, but that was likely because Ralph was essentially a space heater. Roger's space heater, to be exact. Roger laughed quietly to himself as he shivered a bit at the thought of Ralph, heading down the street quickly. Ralph would probably be wondering where he'd run off to by now, why he hadn't come back yet. The truth was, the coming of fall also meant the coming of Ralph's birthday.

Naturally, Ralph tried his best to forget about this, but Roger would have none of that. Neither would Simon, who had completely overruled Ralph on anything and everything that he had ever said concerning his birthday, every year. Not that Ralph didn't enjoy his birthday celebrations, but it would have probably been nice to just have a relatively quiet birthday for once. Roger had, fortunately, managed to talk Simon out of most of what he'd been planning, in lieu of what he had planned himself.

Ralph was rightly concerned.

Jack was wary of the goings on, but was overseas, so the best he could do was to try and console Ralph. Needless to say, by the end of the week Ralph was convinced that he was going to die, and Jack was also trying to talk Simon out of most of his plans. In the end, Simon begrudgingly agreed to leave the planning to Roger, and actually listen to Ralph this year in the request to keep it a small and quiet celebration. Roger took this request with a grain of salt, of course. The celebration itself would be quiet, surely, but what he had in store for his beloved Ralph was nothing small, in any sense of the word.

He grinned as his eyes found the yellow house in the dark, and he bounded up the walkway silently, careful as he opened the door. He slipped in unnoticed and shut the door quietly behind him, the scent of warm food drifting from the kitchen, beckoning him to immerse himself in being home. He abandoned his shoes, jacket, scarf, and made his way towards the kitchen quietly, ghosting through the house. In the kitchen, Ralph was perched at the table, legs crossed, book in hand, and a glass of deep, red wine perched nonchalantly next to him. On the stove, what Roger assumed was some sort of stew simmered lightly, really just to keep it warm. Ralph knew he was there, and Roger knew that he did, because he could see the corner of his lips twitch slightly as he tried to keep himself from smiling. However, it was an unspoken rule that nothing would be said until Roger spoke first, announcing his return.

Roger grinned and, just as silently, entered the kitchen, not disturbing Ralph from his reading. Roger was gentle and he leaned down and wrapped his arms around Ralph from behind the chair, resting his chin on top of his head lightly. "I'm home." he grinned. Ralph smiled, though Roger couldn't see it, and let a hand drift up to gingerly rub in cheek. " How was your adventure out into the world?" Ralph asked, setting a place mark in the book before putting it on the table. He let his hands find Roger's and gently laced their fingers together, looking up at him as Roger stood once more. "Hmm… Well, I found what I was looking for," he hummed thoughtfully. "And I also found several things that we probably don't need, but will inevitably end up investing in anyway." He grinned, feeling warmed by the sound of Ralph's laughter.

"More stuff that will _inevitably_ end up in the muck room?" he questioned, earning a sheepish grin from Roger. "No, not necessarily." He said, though he knew it was true. Every time that there was something that they would 'inevitably end up investing in' something always went horribly wrong. Several times it ended up with the house nearly burning down, or most of the kitchen counter missing. Needless to say, Ralph had wisely invested in more home insurance for their 'investments', as well as when Roger decided he was going to fix the house. Regrettably, Roger was not in any way handy with a hammer, and after four hours, usually threw in the towel and left it to Ralph, who was – after all – the carpenter.

"I'll be sure to inform the insurance company." Ralph teased, earning laughter from Roger. It was a low, rumbling sort of sound that could easily throw someone off. "Dinner is ready, though, and still warm." Ralph said, looking at Roger meaningfully. Much to Ralph's dismay, he had to keep tabs on whether or not Roger ate, simply because he would often find himself busy with something and forget. Roger, smiled and kissed Ralph's forehead before disentangling their fingers and walking over to the cupboard. "It smells wonderful." Roger said, casting a glance over to Ralph, who looked at him pointedly. "Have you even eaten anything since this morning?" He sighed.

Roger took on a thoughtful expression as he retrieved a bowl, frowning a bit. "Well," he began, earning a wary look. "I had a lot of things to get done today." He reasoned. Ralph was unappeased. "So I couldn't really stop to sit down and have lunch." He explained. It was a reasonable excuse, seeing as Roger was always running off to do _something_ at all hours of the day. Ralph merely pursed his lips skeptically and sighed. Roger helped himself to the food and perched in a chair at the kitchen table, a low hum rumbling from the depths of his chest as the hot bowl warmed his hands. Ralph eyed him for a moment before getting up and heading out of the room, only to return moments later with a soft, thick blanket. It was a genuinely lovely blanket because it was warm and softer than a chinchilla, but it was a horrible shade of salmon pink mixed with orange. It was Roger's least favorite blanket that Ralph insisted on keeping, and he often made attempts to hide it so that Ralph would eventually forget about it. Ralph draped it around Roger's shoulders and Roger, in turn, groaned in displeasure and frowned.

"Oh, come now, it'll keep you warm." Ralph giggled, completely unfazed by the look that he got from Roger.

"It will make me want to gauge my eyes out." Roger returned, turning to his stew slightly grumpy. Ralph just smiled and shook his head, taking a tentative sip of wine. "Simon would be heartbroken." Ralph scolded, to which Roger snorted and rolled his eyes. "You and I both know that Simon had no part in this, he hates it just as much as I do." Roger said truthfully. Simon's inner fashionista had had a complete bitch fit when he saw it, and he and Roger had nearly burned the poor blanket. The only reason they didn't was because Ralph had stubbornly wrapped it around himself, despite the sweltering heat of the day, and refused to let them anywhere near it. By the time that they had given up, Ralph had nearly gotten heat stroke, and Jack had had to carry the stubborn blonde and the awful blanket back inside. This did not save Jack, who had gotten the blanket for them, from the wrath of Roger and Simon. After three years, Roger was _still_ upset about the blanket.

"It was the last time that Simon ever let Jack go and buy anything even remotely centered around 'home furnishings'." Ralph commented. Roger scowled at the ungodly beast that was draped around his shoulders and shrugged it off and continued eating. This lasted a good few seconds before he shivered, and Ralph shot him a look. "Roger." He said patiently, watching as the noirette tried to ignore him. "Roger, you're cold." Ralph pointed out.

"Am not." Roger frowned.

"Roger, you'll get sick."

"I'm as healthy as a horse."

"Roger, you're awful when you're sick."

"I've got the immune system of a plague survivor."

"Roger, I have to work. If you get sick, Jack'll have to take care of you." Ralph pointed out. Brief flash backs of a time when Roger had been stuck in bed for a week flickered through his head. Jack had been left with care giving duties, and it was literally the most awful experience he had ever had. Normally, Roger was pretty good about taking his medications, but when it came to cough syrup he was about as cooperative as an angry crocodile. (Unless, of course, it was Ralph that was tending to him.) Jack had known that he was going to be less than cooperative, but he had slightly underestimated how hard it would be to take care of Roger. If he could easily kick anyone's ass while completely healthy, it was nothing compared to the effort put forth while sick, as Jack found out quickly after being first to run out of the room the first time. It took two hours for Jack to finally force the cough syrup down his throat, and the redhead had nearly cried when he realized that he would have to do it again. Needless to say, Roger was relentless in his resistance, and by the time that Ralph got home, the house was a war zone. There had been very many scoldings, several threats, and some rage, after all of which, Roger had been forced to use the awful blanket for a week.

Roger said nothing as he pulled the blanket back up around his shoulders.

_A/N: That's all for now~_


End file.
